I promised myself that every blog I wrote would have at least one joke, be optimistic, be about unemployment, somehow make sure people could relate, and no matter what, I would post every other day. So when I decided to live up to my promise and blog for today, I was scared. What if someone reads this for the first time and I scare them away? What if someone who always reads it decides it’s not worth going back? But I was told, do it anyway so if you don’t like this e-mail me and I will redirect it to her.
In life there are many unexpected things that are thrown our way, and one of those things was thrown at me. Monday night, I had to put my Rusty cat to sleep, because he was terminal with cancer. Literally I found out in the morning his little body was riddled with cancer, and within hours I was forced to decide if we should try to give a blood transfusion and liquids, that would maybe keep him alive for a day or so, while he would be in a hospital away from us and possibly in a lot of pain.
You might think I was a negligent person to find out the day my cat dies that he has cancer, but the truth was I was at the vet more than most people take their animal if it lived to be 20. I would tell them something was wrong, and they would send me away with antibiotics, new eye drops, or in the last case, wanting to pull his teeth just three weeks before his death.
About a year and half ago, we came back from an overnight trip to find Rusty as limp as a ragdoll. We rushed him to the hospital where he stayed for 3 days, undiagnosed. We finally brought him home, and within 2 weeks, he was so ill again that I brought him to my vet this time. They had a diagnosis! We were thrilled, and that began Rusty taking steroids. Our little champion took a pill nearly every day, some days more than one. He always stayed happy, always was fun, he was the “oddest” cat as people would say, because he was more like a dog, but to me he was my baby.
He came when I called him. He slept with me at night. And he loved to eat. He would sit next to me when I was eating dinner and beg until I gave him something. He would sit with me every other day when I wrote this blog. But I knew he was sick, and after the last unsuccessful visit, his drastic weight loss, and his lymph nodes alarmingly swollen, we tried a new vet. Unfortunately we learned that he had been living with cancer since the year and half before. I just didn’t know when we woke up that morning that was going to be his last day.
I could go on forever and talk about so much that was right and wrong. But let me tell you this. Life is short. Yes he was a cat, but to me he was my rock. We had been though 4 boyfriends, 3 moves, college, the wedding, and most importantly we spent every day together. I feel like being unemployed was a gift in disguise, that I had no idea my days with Rusty had been limited, and now I am so glad we had them. Being unemployed sucks, but it was as if this was all for a reason, it was so I could spend the last few months with my buddy cuddling on the couch, sleeping late together when Michael would leave for work.
This is long, this is sad, but here is the lesson which I always followed and is making this process easier for me, live everyday like it’s your last. Yeah, you might think it’s insane to spend the day at home with your cat if it’s your last day, but for me, all those days were exactly how I would have spent them if they were mine and I sure hope he appreciated all of the days we spend just the two of us. Although I’m pretty sure if he could have spoke he would have said, “it’s time to get a job, you did enough sitting around the house already.”
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